Chapter Two

 

 

Emory’s arms stretched towards the ceiling a little after eight as she released a quiet yawn. She looked down at the floor and saw her houseguest still asleep with the quilt spread over him – his big feet protruding out from beneath the covers. A smile came to her face. Remington was just as breathtaking in a state of sleep as he was awake. A woman could form a habit of staring at a man like him – the chiseled jawline, the shadow of hair growing in on his face, the thick arm muscles…

Too bad she couldn’t take advantage of this opportunity to lay there on the couch and stare down at him. The wood heater needed tending to since it wasn’t putting out much heat. She’d usually get up in the middle of the night and add more wood to the heater to keep it going, but she slept through the night. Now, she had work to do.

She eased up from the sofa, headed straight for the bathroom where she washed her face, brushed her teeth, then took a cold sink bath. After dressing in a pair of jeans and a black sweater, she found more clothes for Remington – another pair of sweatpants and a gray sweater. She left the clothes in the bathroom so that when he was awake and ready to start the day, they’d be ready for him.

Tiptoeing back to the living room, she went out to the back porch to grab a few pieces of wood, carrying them in her arms to the heater. She lowered the small stack, opened the heater by the wooden handle and used a fire iron to stir the fire, raking the red hot coals together and adding the wood. When the fire blazed to the heat level in which she wanted, she returned to the kitchen and prepped for breakfast. She found a small frying pan that would fit perfectly on top of the wood heater then added strips of thick-cut bacon to the pan. She set the pan on the heater. It didn’t take long for the bacon to sizzle – for the smell to aromatize the room.

“Oh, man,” Remington said stretching and yawning, bones popping, extending his hands above his head.

Emory caught a glimpse of the dark shadow of hair underneath his arms as he stretched. The smell of food must’ve woke him up.

“Good morning.”

He twisted his body to look in the direction of her voice. That’s when he saw her standing next to the heater, alert and wide awake, wearing a pair of jeans that fit her body just right and a black sweater that did something magnificent to enhance her dark eyes. She looked to be cooking, busy already and he concluded that she was always this dutiful – a real woman who liked taking care of her home and who didn’t see much sense in running the streets.

“Good morning,” he finally said.

“I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Are you kidding? Waking up to bacon is every man’s dream and if it isn’t, it should be.”

She giggled. “Maybe so if you’re some sort of food addict.”

“Guilty as charged.” He sat up, stretched again and yawned audibly.

Emory looked over at him. It must’ve been hard for him to sleep on an air mattress. When you’re accustomed to sleeping on much fancier, more comfortable beds, an air mattress simply wouldn’t do. Still, it was better than sleeping on the floor.

“I’ll have breakfast ready shortly.”

“Good. I’m starving.”

“And, by the way, I left some clothes for you in the bathroom. And if you need to use my phone, it’s over there on the coffee table. Just don’t forget to turn it back off to save the charge on the battery.”

“Okay. Thanks again.”

“No problem.”

 

By the time he’d washed up and dressed in the clothes she laid out for him, Remington stepped back inside the living room and called Giovanni. He talked to him for a moment about the weather and told him that he was staying with someone until the storm let up. He listened closely while Giovanni gave him an update on how conditions were there, then he ended the call and powered the phone down just as Emory had instructed.

When he turned to head for the couch, Emory was already toting him a plate.

“Bacon and eggs,” he said, taking the plate. He thanked her and sat on the couch.

“Yes. It’s crazy that I have to keep the perishables outside in a cooler. It’s so cold out there, the food won’t spoil. It’s just like a refrigerator.”

“That’s smart thinking.”

“I’d like to think so.” She glanced over at him. “Do you need salt, pepper or anything?”

He tasted the eggs and said, “No. They taste just fine the way you prepared them.”

“Good.” She picked up a mug and walked it over to him. “This one is yours.”

“What’s this?”

“Hot cocoa.”

“Thank you. I feel right at home at Emory’s Bed and Breakfast.”

She giggled. “Does Lennox Enterprises own any bed and breakfast businesses?”

‘‘No, but I don’t rule anything out. If one becomes available, then I’d certainly consider it, but there’re a lot of factors that come into play when going outside of your normal scope of work.”

“Oh yeah?”

He picked up a strip of bacon and bit it in half. “There are,” he mumbled. “These bed and breakfast businesses are usually managed by owners who live on site.”

“Oh.”

“And hotels and motels are staffed, meaning at some point, the workers actually go home.”

“That’s true.”

“The business models are completely different.”

Her eyes twinkled. “You’re right.”

“What?” he asked when he saw the smile on her face.

“I can tell you’re passionate about your work.”

“I am. When I inherited the business, I threw myself into it. I’m one of those all-in types. Get to know me and you’ll see that when it comes to business, I’m not so laid back. I’m a completely different man from the one you have the privilege of meeting.”

She laughed. “The privilege…you are something else.”

He laughed too, then took a sip of cocoa.

After she prepared some cocoa for herself, she sat on the couch with her plate in her lap. “How’s your family? Is everybody okay?”

He looked at her, appreciative of the fact that she cared enough to ask. “Yes. Everybody’s okay. Surprisingly the mountains didn’t get as much snow as Atlanta if you can believe that.”

“That is hard to believe. I heard the mountains had rough winters.”

“Depends on what you define as rough. We’re pretty much guaranteed to get snow every winter.” He took a sip of the hot chocolate. “I usually don’t drink this stuff, but it’s hitting the spot right now.”

“I don’t drink it often, but it’s much easier to prepare than coffee when one has no electricity.”

“You’re right about that.”

She ate more for a moment feeling his eyes on her. In fact, she saw the moment he turned to look at her and wondered why he was staring. She looked over at him, connected her gaze to his and saw a smile form on his face.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing,” he said.

He was still staring…

Suddenly, she felt nervous, jittery and she knew she shouldn’t have. It’s not like a man like him would be interested in a woman like her. No way. So why was he staring so hard?

To take the heat of his gaze off of her, she asked, “How did you sleep on that air mattress? I know it’s not much, but—”

“It was a nice substitute for a bed. I slept like a baby. I hope I didn’t snore too loud.”

“If you did snore, I didn’t hear it. I was out. I’ve been busy prepping for the storm earlier in the week and I think all the hard work has finally caught up to me.”

“What did you do?”

“What didn’t I do? I chopped firewood and stacked it up on the back porch, bought food and supplies, did laundry and cleaned the house from top to bottom.”

“That’s a lot. Do you not have anyone to help you?”

“Not really. I’m a one-woman show. I’m used to it.”

He didn’t like the sound of that. The woman who was selfish and giving didn’t have anyone to help her. Remington glanced at the heater and said, “Hey, what’s in the pot?”

“A stew for later.”

“What kind of stew?”

“Beef and vegetables. I have to start cooking early since it’ll take a while to get done on the wood heater.”

“It smells good already.”

“It will be. I got the recipe from Alba.”

“Really?” he asked.

“Yes. Why do I detect surprise and curiosity in your voice?”

“I don’t run across women interested in recipes and such nowadays.”

“That’s probably because the women who run in your circles all have personal chefs and whatnot.”

He laughed.

“I bet you have one, too,” she said.

“Actually, I have several.”

“I knew it,” she said.

He laughed it off. “One of the perks of being a CEO, but that’s neither here nor there. I want to hear more about this recipe.”

“There’s nothing to tell,” she said amused. “It’s pretty basic. Alba gave me a binder of recipes.” Emory smiled nostalgically. “I miss her.”

He took a sip of cocoa, staring at her intently, noticing how her tone changed, how her face softened whenever she talked about Alba. “Do your parents live around here?” he inquired.

“No. My parents…um—”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to hit a nerve.”

“It’s okay. The truth is, I never knew my father and my mother died when I was young—I’m talking single digits young. Luckily, I had a pair of foster parents until I was old enough to make it on my own. They’re gone now, too.”

Sadness flushed her face. She tried masking the pain by sipping cocoa. The one thing she always wanted but never had was a family and the closeness of relatives. That’s why she latched on to Alba and held on, referring to the woman as her grandmother. And when Alba passed, she was basically alone again besides the few friends she had.

“Tell me more about your family, Remy.”

“I lost my parents. My father had cancer and my mother died of a heart attack.”

“My grandma, I mean, Ms. Alba died of a heart attack, too.”

Remington glanced over at her. Now might’ve been a good time to tell her that Alba Moretti was his mother and also the real reason he’d come to visit her. He wasn’t looking for properties. He was looking for Emory. He just so happened to do it on a stormy, snowy weekend. And his car just so happened to skid off the road only a quarter of a mile away from her house. He wasn’t a believer in coincidences, so from his way of thinking, running off the road, being stranded in a storm and having to stay with her was supposed to happen just the way it was happening. And he knew why it was happening…

Alba cared for and adored Emory so much that she left Emory in her will. In it, she gave Remington two options when it came to her – he could either hand deliver Emory a check for two million dollars, or he could forego giving her a check and choose to take care of her permanently. Taking care of her would entail getting to know her – taking her in to be a part of his family.

Before this weekend, he knew of Emory but he didn’t know her. There was no way he’d have time to take care of a woman who he didn’t know and didn’t have time to know. Besides, he had a business to run. So he’d casually written a check – a two-million dollar check – and had it ready to hand her. But that was before he had to spend the night at her place. Before she trusted him – a complete stranger – to come inside of her home. Before she fed him, clothed him and made him as comfortable as she could with whatever resources she had. She didn’t know him. She could’ve chosen not to open the door. Could’ve gotten up this morning and sent him packing, but she got up and set aside some clothing for him. Cooked breakfast. Made hot cocoa and inquired about the well-being of his family. His family.

He glanced over at her. She was worth more than two million bucks and he could see why she was so endearing to his mother. He also recognized that his mother’s strict instructions for him to hand deliver the check to Emory was just a way for him to actually meet her. Alba must’ve known that once Remington laid eyes on the generous, caring woman, he’d want her to be a part of his life. Giving Emory a check then walking away to never see her again wasn’t an option. You couldn’t put a price on sincerity and generosity. Emory was pure gold and he wanted to mine for it – get to know her, earn her trust and eventually, her love.

“I’ll take your plate if you’re done.”

He was in such deep thought that he hadn’t realized she was standing next to him.

“Oh, yes. I’m done. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she said heading straight for the kitchen. When she was back in the living room, she asked, “What are your siblings like?”

“Ah…let’s see. Kenton is a sales guy for Lennox Enterprises. He’s good at what he does and thinks he’s some kind of smooth operator. Giovanni is in a managerial role for LE, but I plan on expanding his role. He doesn’t know about it yet, though.”

“Uh oh.”

His lips quirked up. “It’s all good. Giovanni needs the structure in his life. Then there are the girls…” He shook his head.

“They’ve been giving you a run for your money, huh?”

“Very much so. Jessalyn has no clue what she wants to do with her life after graduating from college and Davina is in college as we speak and doesn’t know what kind of career she wants to pursue.”

“I’m sure they’ll find their way.”

“Let’s hope so.”

“I bet you all get along good.”

“Somewhat. We have our moments, but I love all of them. I actually adopted them.”

“You did?”

“Yes. My mother developed a mental illness that drove her away from us for one reason or another, so I adopted them. I was in college at the time and trust me when I say it wasn’t easy.”

“I bet.”

“But, I got through it.” Remington stretched, then stood up and walked over to the window where he opened the blinds and squinted as he peered out into the front yard. The sun seemed extra bright today, striking the crystalline snow that blanketed the ground.

“How many inches would you guess is out there? They were forecasting six to twelve?”

Instead of answering her, he turned around to look at her while sliding his hands into his pockets. Something about the way their eyes connected punched him in the gut and her standing this close to him was doing quite the number on his senses. She smelled good, looked good in a casual, endearing type of way and even the sound of her voice seemed to draw him closer to her.

He turned his attention back to the window, but just the fact of knowing she was standing so close to him made him want to take his hands from his pockets and wrap his arms around her.

He resisted.

Finally answering her question, he said, “There’re at least six, maybe seven inches out there.” Glancing up, he could see spikes of thick icicles hanging from the roof like decorative Christmas lights. “Those icicles look dangerous.”

“Yeah,” Emory said. “I need to get out there and knock them down.”

“I’ll take care of it,” he told her.

“You’re my guest and this is my house,” she reminded him. “I’ll handle it.”

He grinned. “I said I’ll take care of it and that wasn’t an option in case you thought it was.”

“Remy—”

“It’s the least I can do. Now, I get it that you’re independent and all. You’re a regular ol’ lumberjack and I don’t doubt that you can do this on your own, but I would like to pitch in here—shovel your walkway and knock those murder weapons down.”

She giggled. “Okay, I’m not going to argue with you then.”

“Good.”

“But I am coming outside with you. I’m getting cabin fever. I could use some fresh air. I’ll see if I can find you a hat.”

“Don’t worry about it if you can’t. This shouldn’t take long.”

 

* * *

 

Emory followed him outside after she’d put on her hat, coat, scarf and gloves. She found a hat for him and a jacket but the jacket was too small. He couldn’t zip it closed. Still, that didn’t stop him from shoveling the fluffy, white stuff off of the porch and the sidewalk. Using the handle of the shovel, he knocked down the icicles.

“Alright. That’s a wrap,” he said. He turned around to see where Emory was and that’s when he saw her standing in the middle of the freshly shoveled sidewalk, holding a snowball in her gloved hands.

His lips curved into a smile. “Don’t even think about it.”

She didn’t think about it. She just launched the snowball at him and ran. He couldn’t much keep up with her especially in the Italian leather shoes he had on but still, he made an effort, launching handfuls of packed snow back at her.

“That’s all you got, Remy?” she yelled after she ducked behind her car.

“Trust me, if I had on the right gear you’d be obliterated.”

“Is that so?” she asked as she cautiously stood up and threw another snowball, striking him with it.

“Okay. That does it,” he said as he gathered up enough snow to make a snowball.

Using the traction underneath his shoes to steady his way towards her as she ran, he threw the snowball and got her smack dab in the back. Then he grabbed her from behind causing her to slip and fall.

She laughed all the way down.

“Now, who has the advantage?”

Still laughing, she stared up at him. His nose was red. So was his face.

“Speak up, lil’ Emmie. I can’t hear you,” he said, then flashed that amazing smile again, teeth whiter and more brilliant than the snow.

“You do,” she admitted.

She was right. He did have the advantage, in more ways than he was sure she hadn’t thought about. And then his expression became more serious as he honed in on her lips. It took all the willpower he had not to lower his mouth to hers and give her a kiss hot enough to melt, not only the snow beneath them, but the snow on her entire street. That’s how strong and potent his need was, but he knew he needed to take his time with her – give her the opportunity to open up to and get comfortable with him.

When she saw the look on his face, she asked, “Is something wrong?”

“No. Let me help you up.”

He stood up and she grabbed a hold to his outstretched hands while he pulled her up.

“Thanks,” she said.

He didn’t say a word back, she noticed. He was probably very much out of his element. She was certain that playing in the snow wasn’t something a man of his age did. He was accustomed to running his business, not playing around in the snow like children.

“Probably not your thing, huh?” she asked.

“What’s that?”

“Playing in the snow.”

“Not particularly, but I’d be willing to make some concessions where you are concerned. After all, you’ve been feeding me pretty well.”

She smiled. Relieved.

When they reached the stairs, he stepped up then reached back for her hand.

She looked confused. She wasn’t used to this – wasn’t used to anyone helping her do anything. Still, knowing what he wanted her to do, she accepted his grasp and he helped her up the stairs, even though he knew she didn’t need the help. She wasn’t alone now. He was there, and he would help her any way he could.